


Underneath the Tree

by searchingwardrobes



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Tree, F/M, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 12:09:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17161745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/searchingwardrobes/pseuds/searchingwardrobes
Summary: Emma Swan has never had a real Christmas tree, so her best friend Killian Jones is determined to give her one. A real live Christmas tree from a quaint little lot like in all those Hallmark movies. Even if it's pouring down rain . . .My gift for Travelintimeandspace for the CS Secret Santa.





	Underneath the Tree

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Travelintimeandspace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Travelintimeandspace/gifts).



> * Travelintimeandspace, you said you enjoy modern aus and friends to lovers. I also may have tumblr stalked you and discovered that you would also be just fine with CS in front of the fireplace. And when I found out you had never had a real Christmas tree, I decided I needed to give you one in fic form. And let's just say putting up a real tree isn't always as easy or romantic as the movies, lol. But what better way to get CS truly cozy in front of that fire than to get them caught in the rain first? I hope you enjoy this story as much as I've enjoyed getting to know you!  
> * This is m-ish just to be safe, but it isn't smut.  
> * The title comes from the song of the same name by Kelly Clarkson, which is a perfect song for this friends to lovers story.

Killian Jones frowned at Emma Swan when she answered her door. She was still in her pajamas.

“Swan, why aren’t you ready to go?”

Emma’s brows shot up. “Are you serious?”

“Do I look serious?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “It’s raining.”

He crossed his arms and arched a brow.

“And cold,” Emma added. 

“People get Christmas trees in the snow all the time, love. Meaning it’s both wet and cold.”

Emma let out an exasperated sigh even as she stepped back to let him in. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it.”

She shook her head before heading to her bedroom to change. The first time he had tossed out the “L” word so casually, it had freaked her out. Now she knew how he meant it. The love of a best friend, that’s what they had. A comfortable one filled with no pretenses, casual affection, and innocent flirting. A rarity in Emma’s life for sure, but Killian Jones had proven too stubborn to go away when she got prickly or threw her walls up. Since she couldn’t get rid of him, she eventually accepted his unflagging loyalty and occasional burst of heartfelt sentiments. 

It was Killian’s stubbornness that had them heading to a Christmas tree lot on a cold, rainy Brooklyn morning. She had mentioned that she had never owned a Christmas tree aside from the pitiful tabletop thing that resided in her apartment. It came with red baubles already attached to the plastic limbs. All she had to do every year was dust it and set it on the table. Killian, however, had insisted that just wouldn’t do. They were getting her a tree, and not only was it going to be a decent size, it was going to be real. They were going to a tree lot like in those montages on Hallmark Christmas movies. 

“Will  _Rockin_ _Around the Christmas Tree_ be playing in the background?” Emma had asked sarcastically.

“Maybe,” he had told her with a smirk.

So now Emma was shivering in the passenger’s seat of Killian’s pickup truck, peering past the windshield wipers at the giant, waving Santa welcoming visitors to “Santa’s Treeland.” Killian parked, then came around to open Emma’s door like the old-fashioned gentleman that he was. The rain had tapered off to a light misting, but it still increased the sharpness of the cold. Emma yanked her beanie down farther over her ears and shoved her hands inside the pockets of her parka. Killian wrapped his arm around her and pulled her against his side, rubbing her arm up and down to warm her more. She had to admit, it helped. 

Luckily, the trees were stored beneath an awning made of tarps. A sweet looking middle-aged man approached them as they neared the lot.

“Welcome to Santa’s Treeland!” he said as he handed them candy canes. “First Christmas together?” he asked with a wink.

Killian chuckled warmly, tugging Emma closer against him. “You could say that.” He winked down at her as they walked away, and she poked him in the ribs with her elbow. He just laughed more as he rubbed the sore spot.

The trees were organized by size: 4-5 feet, 6-7 feet, and then 8-9 feet. Emma gaped at the prices. 

“Fifty bucks for a tree that’s shorter than me?” 

Killian frowned at the tree she had tilted upright. “No way, Swan. Your apartment may be small, but I’m not letting you get a tree unless it’s taller than I am at least. And yes, that’s the price. They’re ten dollars a foot, cheapest in any of the burroughs.”

Emma folded her arms over her chest and shook her head. “Nope. I refuse to pay that much for a dead tree.”

He ignored her completely, hoisting a tree that was over six feet from the next stack over. “Well,” he said, eyeing the thing up and down, “good thing you’re not paying for it.”

Emma blinked rapidly. “Y-you can’t do that!”

He sighed and gave her a tender smile. “Yes, I can, and I will. Now, what do you think of this one?”

Emma, always uncomfortable about receiving generosity, shifted from one foot to the other. She contemplated arguing with him, telling him she didn’t need his charity. If this were Mary Margaret or David, she would have. But with Killian, she knew it wasn’t like that. His upbringing had been similar to her own, and he would never direct pity her way for it. 

She tilted her head, chewing on her lower lip. What was she even supposed to be looking for? “It’s okay I guess?”

Killian chuckled. “Is it full enough?” He started turning it slowly. “Or does it have gaps? And the shape, is it close to a triangle or is it too thin or too squat?”

His questions helped as he continued to spin it. Emma frowned. “Now that you mention it, one side looks like it’s missing some branches.”

He nodded, then shoved the tree back with the others. “Then we keep looking.”

They looked at four more until they finally found one just at six feet that was perfect. Unfortunately, while they had been looking the rain had increased. Killian dashed through the rain to where he parked the truck, and by the time he got back his dark hair was plastered to his forehead and rain dripped off his coat. An employee helped him slide the tree into the back of his truck, and Killian quickly covered it with a tarp. Even Emma got slightly drenched just dashing to the passenger’s side of the vehicle. Killian gave his head a shake while Emma squeezed out her damp hair, and they both laughed even as their teeth chattered. 

The rain didn’t let up as they drove home. Emma wondered at the wisdom of dragging a wet tree into her apartment, but Killian didn’t seem at all concerned as he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, humming “Oh, Christmas Tree.” When she hesitantly voiced her concern, he just smiled at her. 

“I covered it with a tarp, so it won’t be too wet,” he assured her, “and we’ll let it dry before we decorate it.”

His festive mood finally had her relaxing, and she actually found herself tapping out the rhythm on the door handle when he switched to humming “Winter Wonderland.” He parked in front of her building, and Emma realized there was no way she wasn’t getting soaked now. He couldn’t get the tree out of her trunk and up to her apartment by himself. Just as she suspected, by the time they had the thing leaning against the door of her second-floor apartment, her wet clothes clung to her skin and her shoes left puddles in their wake. But somehow, Killian was still smiling. 

“Where’s that tree stand I got you?” he asked, shaking the rain out of his hair. 

“I set it up right in front of the window like you said, with an old sheet under it.”

Killian rubbed at his jaw as he righted the tree. Then he started to shake it, sending drops of water flying all over the place.

“Ugh!” Emma protested, lifting her hands in front of her face to block the onslaught. “I think we should let it dry out here before we take it inside.”

“We can’t do that, we have to get it in the stand and water it right away, or it will dry out. They drink gallons of water when you first get them home.”

“What are you, a Christmas tree expert?” Emma laughed.

“Well, Liam got me a few trees when I was a teenager,” Killian said as tilted the top of the tree Emma’s way. She grasped the slender half as he hoisted the trunk. “And then there’s Google.”

They both grunted as they maneuvered the thing through Emma’s door. She wanted to ask if he’d had a tree since Liam passed, but she didn’t have the heart to dampen his mood. Besides, she’d been to his place the last couple of Christmases and knew full well he had no tree. She wondered if this little outing was as much for him as it was for her. After all, Christmas traditions just weren’t the same when you were alone. 

   They tilted the tree so they could set the bottom of the trunk into the red metal stand. Killian’s smile – the one that had scarcely wavered all day – faded somewhat as he shoved the tree downward. His brow furrowed.

“What the -” he muttered. “You got a good hold on it?”

Emma tightened her grip and nodded, her frigid fingers getting poked by the tree’s needles. Killian let go of his end and got down on his hands and knees. All Emma could see was his ass sticking out from underneath the bottom branches. He swore under his breath as he struggled with something; the sound of clanging metal accompanying his curses. Yet all Emma could do was grin as she admired her current view of Killian in his tight jeans.  _Now that’s a gift any woman would like to see underneath her tree._

“It won’t go in.”

“Excuse me?” Emma startled, blushing furiously as Killian’s head popped back out from under the tree. His hair was disheveled, and his cheeks and elf shaped ears were bright red. Even though he was staring at the tree, and not her, she suddenly felt she had been caught at something. 

“It’s too wide for the stupid stand,” Killian muttered gesturing at the tree.

“Oh,” Emma breathed out in relief. 

Killian grabbed at a fistful of hair. “Surely we can fix this.” He stood up and eyed the tree critically. “Keep hold of it, Swan, I'll be right back.”

He dashed out of the apartment, and Emma stood there, feeling foolish as she continued to grip the tree. Her wet jeans were driving her mad, and the branches of the tree were poking their way up the sleeve of her parka. She adjusted her grip and groaned when she felt sticky sap coating her palms. What in the world was taking Killian so long?

Emma’s eyes widened when he returned with a huge pair of pruning shears. He squatted down by the tree again, and damn it, Emma couldn’t help where her eyes kept going.  Something about the way his wet shirt was plastered to his skin, the way his slightly damp hair was curling at his nape, made her suddenly aware of how well built her best friend was. She really needed to get out of this wet parka because she was suddenly  _really_ hot. 

“There’s a branch sticking out of the very bottom of the trunk, and I think if I trim it off, it’ll fit in the stand just fine.”

Emma tore her eyes away from his rear end to actually look where he was pointing. “Um, are you sure you want to do that?” 

But he was already cutting at the base of the branch with the shears, and as it fell away . . . there went half the tree. 

“Shit,” Killian grumbled, running his hand through his hair in frustration again. He really needed to quit doing that. It was making Emma’s fingers twitch.

“Hey,” she told him, “it’s no big deal. We’ll just put that side against the window. No one will be able to tell from the street.”

“I’m sorry, Emma,” he told her, frowning for the first time that day, “I ruined your tree.”

She shook her head. “No, you didn’t. Now can we get this thing in the stand already? I’ve got sap running down my arm.”

That got a chuckle out of him, and he bent down again to tighten the screws in the stand. Once it was steady, they both backed up to examine it. 

“Is it just me,” Killian asked, “or is it . . .”

“Leaning? Um, yeah.” Emma finally shed her parka, then stretched her arms. She grasped the tree again while Killian loosened the screws. Then he backed up to assess things.

“A little to the left . . . “ he instructed as Emma adjusted the tree, “a little to the right . . . There! Perfect! Don’t move!”

He dove back under the tree and tightened everything, then he and Emma stood back to admire their work. She smiled, and Killian put his arm around her. Maybe she was beginning to see the appeal of -

Then the tree seemed to lean to one side in slow motion before crashing to the floor.

“Shit,” Killian swore again.

“At least we didn’t water it yet.”

*****************************************************

Killian’s swearing had taken on epic, sailor-like proportions. They finally realized, after many balancing attempts, that they had chosen a tree with a crooked trunk. No matter what they did, the damn thing ending up sideways on the floor. Now Killian had retrieved a tackle box from his truck and was wrapping the thing in fishing wire. He ran the line to the lock mechanism on her window, and now her tree was basically tied to her window so it wouldn’t fall down. 

Emma looked at what they had spent the last half hour doing: there were tree branches and pine needles all over the floor, the tree still dripped rainwater from its branches, the back half of it was completely missing, and Killian’s tools and tackle were scattered over Emma’s kitchen table. Killian himself was shaking the tree to ensure that it was held securely by the fishing wire, and he was even more wet than he had been when they’d gotten home from his multiple trips back to his truck. Suddenly, the whole thing struck Emma, and she burst out laughing. At first, Killian seemed startled, and slightly indignant, but then a slightly sheepish grin overtook his face right before laughter spilled out of him as well. He shrugged his shoulders as he stepped away from the hopeless tree.

“Well, I promised you a real tree. I never said anything about quality.”

Emma’s laughter faded as another emotion overtook her. She looked him up and down as he stood there scrutinizing the tree, his arms crossed. Then he lifted one hand to rub at his jaw, his thumb brushing his lower lip. Emma swallowed as realization crashed over her.

“I love you,” she blurted out. 

He turned to her tenderly. “Aye. I love you too, Emma.”

She shook her head in frustration, the look in his eyes clearly telling her he misunderstood. “No. I mean, yes, I love you. But I also  _love_ you.” 

She puffed out a breath, irritated at her lack of eloquence, and a strand of hair fell across her eyes.  Killian stepped forward, reached out, and tucked the strand behind her ear. 

“What was that, Swan?”

He had a slight smirk on his face that made Emma want to smack him and take it back, but then she saw the slight widening of his eyes and the way they darted across her face. Insecurity. That was the emotion in his gaze. 

She managed a tiny smile. “I just realized as I was standing here . . . all of this, how you’ve gone to all this trouble to give me a Christmas memory I’ve never had before, it’s just . . . “ She bit her lip and crossed her arms, then nervously uncrossed them again. Damn it, why wouldn’t her words make sense? “You’ve always been such a great friend to me, but somewhere, somehow . . . I’ve fallen in love with you.”

His eyes sparkled then as a wide grin filled his entire face. He surged forward, claiming her lips, his hands cupping her face. She melted into it as his thumbs caressed tiny circles on her cheeks. They both changed the angle to deepen the kiss, their lips parting for one another. One of his hands slipped from her cheek to her hair while the other one grasped her waist and yanked her close. Emma moaned as she slipped her arms around his neck. He pulled back, breathless, and pressed his forehead to hers. 

“I have been in love with you for so long, Emma, it’s been sheer torture.”

“Then why didn’t you -” he cut her words off with another kiss, and every thought fled her brain. Not that she needed an answer. Prickly Emma Swan with her impenetrable walls? Of course he hadn’t thought he could tell her how he felt. 

Their kisses were more frantic now, hungry and full of want. But everywhere Emma’s hands drifted was wet and cold. She pulled back and smiled when Killian chased her lips. 

“I’m still wet,” she explained, and an involuntary shiver punctuated her point. 

“And cold,” he added with a frown. 

He rubbed her arms up and down, the warmth from his palms sending tingles down her spine that had little to do with his body temperature. When he let her go to start gathering up blankets that were tossed about her living room, a shudder of loss went through her. When he bent to light the fireplace, she pouted. 

“I uh, guess I’ll go change,” she told him, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. 

“Don’t you dare.” The deep timbre of his voice made her stop in her tracks. When she pivoted back to face him, the smile he was giving her was filled with lustful promise. He quirked a brow as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “I plan on warming you up thoroughly, trust me, love.”

She swallowed hard, but forced her voice to sound light and airy when she answered him. “Well you better hurry it up before I get hypothermia.”

He chuckled and quickly got the fire going. Then he stood and laid Emma’s fluffiest blanket out on the floor in front of the hearth, the one with the thick, plush lining. Then he grabbed an oversized quilt and walked – no sauntered, he was sauntering – towards her. He tossed the quilt down on the couch next to her, his eyes never leaving hers. Then he drew her close, kissing her passionately, sending heat skittering across her skin. He loosened his hold on her, yet didn’t break the kiss as he undid the buttons on her flannel shirt. Then he pushed the damp garment from her shoulders, sending it falling to the floor with a plop. It felt wonderful to no longer have the wet fabric clinging to her, but goosebumps rose up on her now bare skin. Killian, his lips still fused to hers, attempted to chase them away as he ran his hands down her arms and up her back. He quickly unclasped her bra, and removed it as well. His hand came around and cupped her breast, his thumb caressing her nipple. Emma moaned, her head tilting back as Killian finally pulled away from her lips. He trailed kisses along her neck, her collarbone, then lower as he sank to his knees. Emma whimpered, however, when he didn’t linger on her breasts, and he chuckled. 

“Don’t tease me,” she admonished as she yanked on his hair. 

He smirked up at her. “I make no promises.” Then he winked as he unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. As wet as they were, she had to shimmy to help him slide them off. He grasped her hips and kissed her navel, then took the waistband of her panties in his teeth and slid them off too. 

He wasn’t through teasing her, however. As soon as she was completely naked, he rose and grabbed the quilt. He wrapped it around her and brushed her lips with a chaste kiss. 

“Better?” 

Emma debated just dropping the quilt from her shoulders, but she was too curious about what else he had planned. His teasing was driving her insane, but it was also a huge turn on. Still, she couldn’t help kissing him roughly, dragging his lower lip between her teeth. 

“A little,” she finally answered, “but is that the best you can do?”

She yelped when he suddenly scooped her up in his arms and then deposited her gently on the blanket in front of the fire. “Patience, love. I’ve waited too long for this to rush it.”

Heat rose to her cheeks, and it wasn’t from the fire. She tilted her head up at him. “Can I make one request?”

“Anything.”

“I think you’re overdressed.”

He clearly understood her meaning as a smile lit up his face and he quickly began undoing his own buttons. Emma couldn’t help licking her lips as she watched his shirt fall away, that chest hair that always teased at the top of his shirts on full display. Then he peeled his own tight jeans off, then his boxer briefs, and his arousal for her was on clear display. Her heart beat faster in her chest at the sheer masculinity displayed before her. God, he was a beautiful man! How had she kept him so firmly in the friend zone all these years?

She said nothing, merely opened the large quilt for him to come and join her. They lay down before the fire, wrapped up together in the warmth. As he caressed her and kissed her deeply, Emma had never felt so content and full of want at the same time.

***********************************************************

Emma blinked her eyes open, the only sound in the room the crackling of the fireplace. Killian’s arms were still wrapped around her. She glanced up to find that he had fallen asleep, too. She took the moment to run her hand along his arm, feeling the strong muscle beneath her palm, then to drag her fingers gently through his chest hair. They were both still naked, but they hadn’t yet made love. They had pleasured one another in other ways – Killian hadn’t been kidding when he said he wanted to take his time – and then in the drowsiness and warmth had drifted off. Emma rolled over to prop herself up on Killian’s chest. 

“Babe,” she whispered, tracing his jaw gently with her fingertips. His eyes blinked open and he smiled drowsily at her. “We fell asleep.”

“Aye,” was all he said. Then he tilted his head up to look at her wonky tree. “I suppose it’s dry by now,”

Emma scratched lazily at his chest hair, giving him a coy grin. She shifted higher, the feel of her bare breasts against his chest hair sending a buzz right down to her core. She thought to say something flirtatious, but when her eyes met his, she couldn’t string words together. So instead she kissed him. Lazily at first, and then with aggression. She could feel his body responding beneath her. His hands drifted down her back, then grasped her hips. Words failed him, too. He rolled her over, and that conveyed everything.

**********************************************

An hour later, they lay sated and content on their backs amongst the piles of blanket, looking up into the boughs of the Christmas tree. Killian’s fingers traced lazy patterns on her shoulder. Emma breathed in deeply, a gesture of contentment, and the smell of pine filled her senses. 

“You know,” she said softly, “you were right. A live Christmas tree is really beautiful.”

Emma enjoyed the feel of his responding chuckle against her cheek. “We haven’t even put the lights on it yet.”

She rolled over to cup his cheek, her thumb tracing the scar beneath his right eye. “Why don’t you come back tomorrow night, and we’ll decorate it then?”

He smiled as he threaded his fingers through her hair. “Alright, love, I’ll be here tomorrow night.” Then he pulled her down for a kiss that curled her toes. 

Killian came the next night to help her decorate the tree. Even with the back half missing, the crooked trunk, and the fishing wire hooking it to the window, it was beautiful once it was lit up and covered in tinsel and baubles. When the lights were all out except for the Christmas lights, Emma loved to admire it from the sofa across the room, her feet tucked under her and a mug of cocoa in her hands. But her favorite view of the tree was from underneath, with piles of blankets, and all wrapped up in Killian’s arms. 


End file.
